Silence
by SweetLoveless
Summary: TF Prime Universe, set right after "Triage". Soudwave has always liked silence, he debates whether to try and get his visor fixed. You never know how important something is until you don't have it anymore. No OC's in story. Will have parings, ratings for future chapters will go up!


_**Summary: **TF Prime Universe, set right after "Triage". Soudwave has always liked silence, he debates whether to try and get his visor fixed. You never know how important something is until you don't have it anymore.** No OC's** and will have many parring!_

**_Warnings: _**_None...Yet._

**_Disclaimer: _**_I own nothing but my thoughts and ideas!_

* * *

_**Silence**_

* * *

:On board the _Nemesis_:

Silence was something that Soundwave valued more than gold, silver, and even high grade energon. There was lots of types of silence, there was the type that was uncomfortable, smothering, and suffocating. Then there's expecting kind, tense times when expectations are either met or broken. There was the kind that was awkward, where you_ want_ to say something, but have no idea what to say.

Then there was the kind that the spy liked best, the kind where the others _understood_ him. No words were needed to express his feelings, to show his understanding, knowledge. This was very rare with a certain second in command, and an arachnid but, with almost everyone else it was a little better.

Then there was the last kind, the final kind, when there was nothing left to say. When everything was already said, and there was just plain and simple.._. Silence._ Soundwave knew that someday, the world would learn to appreciate this silence.

Soundwave liked silence, unfortunately, there was not a lot of it on board the _Nemesis_, there was always a hum of action, a buzz of work. There was always more things to be fix, more missions to be complete and, _always_ more work to be done.

He heard the clicking and clacking off of the keys, on the Decepticon computer he was typing on. Laserbeak had been unusually quite today, around this time he'd always be chirping away, or singing out his little heart. As mini-cons went, heck, as mechs went, he was one of the better singers, to say _the least_.

He silently sent out a command, _/Laserbeak : Change back to robotic mode./_

The bird did so without a bat of an eye, and landed on his outstretched arm, then he silently commanded the said robotic bird to his perch. The head of communications could tell the bird was puzzled through their mental link, but Laserbeak didn't question what his Master told him to do. With spread wings, he glided over to his perch, and began the puzzling process of preening his iron clad feathers.

* * *

_: _At the_ Autobot Base:_

_Ratchet observed the inflow of information suddenly stop, which was strange, because when Jack downloaded the four coordinates into his, what did the humans call it... Flash drive? Yea, a 'flash drive' it took nearly half an hour! Now it was barley twenty minutes into the process and the inflow of information just stopped. Ratchet grumbled something to himself and decide that the Iacon Archives was a huge file and could not take so little time to download into their computer, human or cybertroian. _

_Puzzled by the computer's behavior, he concluded that Laserbeak needed physical contact, connected to Soundwave, or physical contact to Iacon Archives themselves, for the main frame of the computer to start downloading the data again. Ratchet frowned at this minor set back, he looked over to a small boy with frames and wild hard, typing away on his laptop, and prayed to Primus that this little fumble was the only one._

* * *

:On board the _Nemesis_:

The Decepticon spy felt a strange superstition that he had a bug, or a glitch in his system. Which was childish and absurd, because he _never_ had a virus that was able to decrypt _any_, and by that, he means _all_ of his files. Soundwave wasn't a Decepticon to follow his every whim, but it was high time to purge his system.

It was a monthly choir that filtered out all the nonsensical information that was too boorish or bulky to carry around. No, he would never delete any of it, he simply stored everything inside a heavily encrypted file in his main computer in his resting quarters.

The spy rarely felt this irritated, with his cracked visor was in his hand, he narrowed his eyes. He decided that he really needed this thing fixed, despite it being just a simple screen. It was vitally important to purple-blue mech.

It was like how an artist needed brushes to paint, he needed his screen or he was going into the world blind. Not literally, because that would be absurd. He did had eyes, just blind in the sense of information. The spy silently mused, you never know something's value until you don't have it anymore...

Getting it fixed would means walking to the Med-bay.

Key, word._ Walking._

It wasn't the walking that Soundwave didn't want to do, it was what could happen along the way of walking there. He knew that there could be no one, and he dose mean _absolutely no one_ in the halls while he was in the process of getting there, which is impossible, because there was vehicons stationed strategically through out the Nemesis. For once, Soundwave cursed his strategic logic, and his sensible placement of the soldiers.

Another important reason that Soundwave needed the visor fixed was also because it acted like a power limiter, barrier and a shield. It stopped the frequency that thoughts were emitted at, thus stopping him from hearing everything that everybody thought. Before the visor, he dared to call himself quite mad and tried to isolate himself from society.

It was a psychic shielding that protected him for getting affected by other people's thoughts and emotions. Emotions was the major one, they have such an annoying affect, before the visor he had to constantly remind himself that whatever sudden emotions that he was feeling wasn't his, it was truly maddening.

Before the visor... Was an ad infinitum of _noise. _

Chatters that never ceased, never hearing himself think. Not even in his sleep was it ever silent, it was a constant storm of other people's thoughts, and feeling.

Trapped in his own thoughts he barely noticed a message ping into a specific high frequency radio wave, before planing out how in the world he was going to get to the Med-bay.

* * *

_**AN: **Fist time writing transformers, tell me what you think? Hope you enjoyed!_

_**R & R!**_

_**Constructive critisim is welcomed**_

**_and reviews are always, always welcomed!_**


End file.
